Phone Calls
by Barra Arisa Sanguine
Summary: Late night phone calls between once friend and now enemies. It seems that you can't just turn your emotions off like a light, no matter how much you struggle to do so. Slash, Bobby/John


-1**Title:** Phone Calls  
**Prompt:** Calm, orange, phone - Prompt thanks to the physical embodiment of my muse, the wonderful **lemouton**.  
**Pairing:** Bobby/John  
**Warnings:** Smut alert, nothing hugely detailed, but its still there.

-

The phone calls were always after a battle, no matter whether Bobby or John were even at them, it was just an excuse. The phone calls were always there and always noticed, but never talked about. The boys would hide themselves in their rooms, holding on for dear life to the small pieces of plastic and metal in the hands just as desperately as they clung to the whispers of "I'm alright I promise. I swear I'm alright."

The phone calls were never talked about because, frankly, no one knew what to say. There was no easy way to break into a conversation about them. "Hey, did you see that Patriot's game? Oh and as long as we're talking about seeing things, can you quit calling the enemy after every battle? You're not friends anymore." Yeah, no one, not even Mystique or Magneto were willing to approach the volatile pyrokinetic about ending his relationship with Bobby, the calls were monitored at first, they never brought up the Brotherhood or the X-Men, so they were left alone. One of the many secrets that the X-Men and the Brotherhood shared.

One of the conversations went as follows. It was just after John had gone with Magneto to recruit the Morlocks to fight for them.

"You should have _seen_ some of these kids, Bobby. I mean it looks like they'd just got out of 'Punks R Us' training school or something. One chick had orange skin, not like Hollywood tanner kind of skin, but orange - you know the fruit? - kind of orange."

A pause and both parties laugh softly, then there's a lull in the conversation. Finally, Bobby asks. "Where are you?" He doesn't mean the location of the Brotherhood base. These mental images always helped settle their minds after a fight.

"In my bunk, laying on my back with my head hanging off the side. Remy's gone, some mission for Magneto so I've got the place to myself for a week." Stretching could be heard, the hollow pop of bones. "How 'bout you?"

"I'm in my," The one time 'our' had slipped out John hadn't contacted Bobby for three weeks, so Bobby had learned to be careful. "room. Sitting on my bed, leaning against my headboard. What are you wearing?"

"Jeans and my black boxers."

"Is it that hot there?"

"In my room it is. I swear Remy's gotta keep it sweltering. '_Dit iz like dat in my home_ homme.'" Sarcasm is evident in the bad French impression, but it causes Bobby to chuckle none-the-less. "So, what are **you** wearing?"

"Undershirt, the blue button down you gave me, and jeans." There was a curious lack of underwear present and both boys caught it.

"Oh, really?" John's voice grew more interested as he moved from one spot to another.

"Yeah." Bobby's voice is slightly breathless and embarrassed.

"Bobby," The slightly stern voice that was more curious than anything else. "What are you doing?"

This always embarrassed Bobby, even though it was John, it was still something he was told was dirty and to be done in private, even if it turned John on. "Playing with myself."

John chuckled, voice growing huskier. "Mmm. How?" He enjoyed these moments, where he knew Bobby wasn't as innocent as he pretended to be.

Bobby had gotten used to going through the details with John, but he still felt a little strange doing it over the phone. "My pants are unzipped, my other hand's in them, running up and down my dick slowly." It had only taken John laughing at him and saying '_We're not in health class, Bobby._' once when he said penis to break Bobby of the habit. Besides (not that he'd tell anyone) he kind of liked saying it, made him feel dirty, but in a good way. "What are you doing?"

"Got the lube out of my drawer," a slight grunt interrupted him. "Damn that's _cold."_

"I thought you like the cold." Bobby's voice was teasing.

"I do, but its not like your mouth's on my cock." The casual mention of blowjobs turned both on more. "Got the lube, grabbed a washcloth, pulled my pants off, poured some on my hand, and started jerking off." A shifting could be heard as one or the other moved. "What are you doing now?"

"Uh. I've got the cell balanced on my ear," There was a slight exhale. "One hand on my shaft, and the other one playing with my head. Uh, you?"

"Pumping harder on my cock," The shift in weight on the bed could be heard as John arched his hips. "Thinking about trying to balance the phone so I can play with my balls." John's voice always got deeper, huskier, in sex, but he never had the little noises like Bobby did. "You close, baby?"

"Yeah," It was breathless and John wished the beds Xavier gave them weren't so good. He wished they'd betray some movement of Bobby's. "Rubbing up and down right under my head, uhh, in the sensitive spot. Johnny, I'm really close."

"That's fine baby." John's voice was getting as labored as Bobby's and his movements were betrayed on the creaking of the bed. "That's fine. I'm," A slight hitch of breath. "Balancing the phone now. Both hands on my dick, God I wish it was your mouth."

"Mmm," Bobby agreed. "I want you here, I wish you were fucking me through my bed again." Breath was coming fast now, noises leaking out in words instead of between. "Remember when you tied me to the bed?"

Bobby earned a chuckle. "God, yeah. You had to ice the wall so the banging on the headboard wouldn't wake Sam and Piotr." His breath hissed out between his breath. "God, baby, I'm so close."

"Mmm." Bobby was reduced to small noises and mindless shifty on the bed. "Joh-Johnny!" And a strangled cry then Bobby was cumming.

"Yeah, baby I'm-" he grunted, the noises on the mattress going quiet as he still completely as he came.

The phone line was quiet for a few moments, then suddenly rang. "Sorry, John, I dropped the phone." Bobby's voice was still slightly breathless.

John chuckled. "Its fine." Then he groaned.

"What?" Bobby's voice was worried.

"I missed the washcloth."

**A/N: Alright, I am a lesbian, thus female, and have never slept with a guy (nor do I plan to), so I have no idea how well I did on the whole masturbating thing, any feedback will be appreciated. Anyone else remember being a teenager on the phone in the middle of the night with your significant other and having phone sex? Or am I the only one willing to admit to the fact that I did it? And this was also one of my first pieces written purely for smut, how'd I do on that?**


End file.
